Guilty Pleasure

I read recently that a good line to use when meeting someone for the first time is “what’s the most embarrassing song in your Ipod?” I’m not sure about that, but the question made me ponder what I had in my Ipod.

My current response to the question, hands down, is currently Miley Cyrus’s “See You Again.” I discovered it this weekend when I was trawling the apple store looking for new running songs, and since then have listened to it running down the East River, commuting around town on Sunday, and before Court this morning to psyche myself up. Yes, it’s by a girl half my age. Yes, she has a show on the Disney Channel. Yes, I’m pretty sure she lifted the main base line from the 80s classic “I wear my sunglasses at night” (she didn’t know! she wasn’t born then).

Despite all of that, the song is unequivocally awesome. I dare any of you to listen to the song and tell me otherwise.

Here’s a snippet of the lyrics:

The last time I freaked out, I just kept lookin down
I st-st-stuttered when you asked me what I’m thinkin bout
Felt like I couldn’t breathe
You asked what’s wrong with me
My best friend Leslie said, Oh she’s just being Miley
The next time we hang out, I will redeem myself
My heart can’t rest til then
I can’t wait to see you again

You really can’t get the full effect without listening, so take a listen. It’s addictive.

Holiday Party Music Picks

I’ve been in a flurry of activity preparing for my upcoming holiday party. It’s actually a holiday/birthday party as my birthday is at the end of December. Although I grew up hearing how December babies always get shafted, I can report, happily, that that’s never been the case for me. I guess I’m lucky like that.

One of the things I’ve been working on, in addition to cleaning up and organizing my god-awful disaster of a room, lugging home bottles of liquor and tasty ingredients, and perfecting my Swedish glogg recipe, is picking the perfect play-list for the party. It’s actually way more challenging than I would have thought. I’m doing it in order and trying to have some chill, but fun music up front and then gradually picking up the tempo. The hard part is that you don’t want to bust out, for example, Britney’s “Gimme More,” too early, but you also don’t want to let things lag in the beginning.

What are your music must-haves for a holiday party? Send ‘em my way. Once I get my list perfected, I’ll be sure to post it. It’s going to be awesome.

In other news, for those of you who have inquired… yes, I’ve been rather preoccupied this past week with the Italian man. I’m not going to write much about it because, surprise, surprise, he actually seems cool and I’m genuinely interested in seeing him again. Me thinks blogging would not be a good idea at this stage. Now, if it all fizzles and goes to pot in some semi-painfully hilarious fashion, you can be sure that I will share all the sordid details.

For now though, I’m going to remain pleasantly mum.

Beastie Boys Still Intergalactic

Last night, I went with Em to the Beastie Boys’ concert in Central Park at Summer Stage. They’re all about 40 years old, which is frightening because that means I’m (gasp) at least 30-ish!, but they sounded exactly the same as they did when they first started rapping about fighting for the right to party and wanting girls in the kitchen. They were great and Em and I had a blast.

I have vivid memories of lobster bakes during one summer in the early ’90s when my brothers were totally obsessed with the “Girls” song and played it non-stop, I think in part in a misguided effort to piss me off. We had a deck off the back of our house and a big backyard that lead up to our pool. Along one area there was a stone wall and my brother Frey had removed stones from a section of the wall and fashioned a fire pit over which we used to heat up an enormous pot filled with lobsters, potatoes, and corn. We had a stereo out on the deck, and for that summer “Girls” was on nearly constant repeat. Up in my room, laying out by the pool, sitting on the deck, doing my nails, reading a book, watching TV, all I heard was:

Girls! To do the dishes,
Girls! To clean up my room,
Girls! To do the laundry,
Girls! And in the bathroom,
Girls!
That’s all I really want is girls!
Two at a time,
I want girls!
With new wave hairdos,
I want girls!
I ought to whip out my -
Girls, girls, girls, girls, girls!

It’s an infectious song, and even though I at first pretended to dislike it, by the end of the summer I loved it. Plus, it’s all about them loving girls. Putting aside the obvious references to girls performing traditional female labor, serving as sex objects, and the joys of having them two at a time, I think secretly and subversively the song is about the power of girls. The Beastie Boys say it themselves, all they really want is girls. More indisputable proof that deep-down men really can’t live without us.

The Beastie Boys also evoke vivid memories of the second summer after I graduated from college, when I was living up in Boston with Drummer, sharing his bed, his room in a 4 bed-room house in Jamaica Plain, ideas and our selves, and everything else in 1998. It was the summer of “Hello Nasty” and Soul Coughing’s “El Oso.” I was bar-tending, gardening, selling clothes in a consignment shop on Newbury Street, working for a lesbian-owned sound company, seeing shows all the time, eating ice cream at J.P. Lick’s, painting and drawing in the afternoons, getting over a friendship that had fallen apart, and struggling with whether to pursue law school and what I imagined (rightly) would be akin to working for “the man.”

I had almost no money – neither of us did – but felt like I didn’t need it. I lived in some t-shirts and a pair of shorts, wore almost no make-up, didn’t get my hair done, and felt free, relaxed, in tune with myself, and in tune with what was important in the world. All of which is rather perplexing from my current vantage point, but also quite alluring. I was so young and hopeful and my heart was in the right place. It was before that relationship ended, before Law School, before Ex-Bf, before the Law Firm From Hell, and before I picked myself up and changed everything (much of which you witnessed, my beautiful, supportive friends).

When I hear “intergalactic,” like I did last night (which was awesome by the way), I imagine myself as I was back then and I see everything I didn’t know. I want to beam myself back in time so that I can go tell my younger self, “A lot is going to happen, but it’s going to be okay. Enjoy it now. Don’t stress, don’t be anxious, it will all be okay.” I want to tell my younger self that the relationship with Drummer won’t work, that she’s going to love law school, that she’s going to make many incredible, enriching friendships, that she’s going to become an Auntie and become really close to Bean, that Bean’s going to be okay, that her relationships with Ex-Bf is going to hurt a lot, and that working for a big law firm is not for her. (I could try to tell her not to go out with Ex-Bf and not to go work for the Firm From Hell but she would probably ignore the advice, and I suspect that if I hadn’t learned those lessons one way, I would have learned them another equally painful way – so it’s probably for the best that time travel is currently impossible).

I told an abridged version of that to Em last night in the middle of the concert, and then I started thinking about it. If that’s true, that I would go back in time and tell my younger self not to worry because everything was going to be okay, then it must mean that I think every thing’s okay now. That was something of a revelation, and it made me happy to realize that overall that’s genuinely how I feel, happy about where things are in the present. That’s not to say that I don’t stress, because as you all know, of course I do!

It also made me think that if that’s what I would tell my younger self, then maybe I should be taking that advise now. Presumably, 5 years from now an older version of myself will be looking back at me thinking, “If I could go back in time I would tell her ‘A lot is going to happen, but it’s going to be okay. Enjoy it now. Don’t stress, don’t be anxious, it will all be okay.’”

It’s all about being present, relaxing, enjoying life in the moment, letting go of the past, and not worrying about the future. All easier said than done, but since that’s what I would tell my younger self, and it’s what I’m fairly certain my older self would tell me now, clearly it’s what I should attempt to do. Maybe then my older self, five years from now, instead of feeling like she wished she could go back in time, would instead be off somewhere enjoying herself, thinking fondly of the time many years ago when she learned to accept and enjoy life for what it is.

White Stripes Rocked

The White Stripes concert tonight at Madison Square Garden was SICK! I thought Ani rocked, and she did, but Jack and Meg White really ROCKED. Parts of the show – like “7 Nation Army” with the spotlights shining on the disco ball, spinning red and white starbursts of light out across the entire expanse of the arena, highlighting the sea of people screaming, clapping, and waving their arms while Jack stood over the crowd – were unreal.

The show has converted me from someone who appreciated their music but just didn’t get them or the whole ambiguous sister-brother, wife-husband relationship thing, to a fan who now couldn’t care less if there was actual incest afoot. That is how good they were.

Whatever it was that brought them together, they’re dynamic is an integral, fascinating part of their music. It’s awesome that two people with a drum set and a guitar can create that level of intensity. Jack White is Rock Star. It’s that simple. I now understand what Renee Zellweger saw in him. He has incredible stage presence, his guitar playing was awe-inspiring, he switched effortlessly between the guitar, the keyboard, and singing, and his raw energy appeared limitless. At certain times during the show, it felt like he was playing around, inside of, and through me. Streams of vibrations were thudding against my chest and throat. Sex crossed my mind.

Jack was also, endearingly, pretty low key and chill for performing in Madison Square Garden. I got the sense that he was happy to be there, happy about the fans, but not overly impressed with MSG. He referred to it as a “bar” that he and Meg hadn’t played in before which was kind of cute.

Meg, to my surprise, also kicked ass. Her drumming was good, and her voice sounded great on the one song she performed. Going into the concert I had clearly underestimated her talents. She’s a key part of the performance, not just for the drumming and the occasional vocals, but also for what she adds to the overall look and feel of the band. She’s a damn sexy drummer, and the way they had the lighting set up for most of the show with a shadow of her silhouette blown up against the background of the stage, makes me think they’re quite conscious of her sex appeal.

She worked it, he worked it, and it was all awesome. Dutch and Wood, you were so right about them.

Busy B

I don’t know what it is about this summer, but it’s way more busy than I had anticipated. Each week I think, this week I’ll have time for [fill in the blank with anything lazy, luxurious, and having to do with sunshine, curling my toes in the fresh-cut grass, and margaritas on the rocks with salt]…

…and then BAM! Five thousand things pop up and shoulder their way into my tightly packed schedule. I’ve had invitations to leave the city for the Hamptons, Pennsylvania, and this weekend, Chicago, but there’s so much to do, I can’t seem to find the time to make airline tickets, let alone leave! Not that I’m complaining, I’m just saying. Eh hem.

Last week, in between the gym, the nutritionist, and therapy, there was work, an explosion, the Ani concert, and Harry Potter. Though I started off thinking that this week would be kind of slow in comparison – other than work which has the potential to get a tad intense towards the latter part of the week, potentially screwing up all of my plans – I think it’s actually going to be even more busy than last week. I have an event every night, and was so jammed up that I had to switch therapy from tomorrow night to Thursday and forego running except for tonight. I guess this is what they call “burning the candle at both ends.”

I’m going to the White Stripes concert tomorrow night, to a fancy dinner and public interest law benefit on Wednesday, (potentially) out on a date with Mr. Reunion (aka “IP”) on Thursday, and – probably – to a party on Friday night that Pirate (who’s in town from London) and his brother are throwing. I say “potentially” about the date with IP because this is not the first time he’s said he’ll be back in the city and that he wants to take me out, only to have work and polo keep him away from New York for yet another week or month. It would be interesting to see him again, but given his track record I’m not holding my breath.

The weekend is going to be really busy too, although part of that depends on whether I try to scrape together a last minute trip to Chicago for the Blogher Conference. If I went to Chicago, I’d fly out early Saturday and then have to fly back Sunday. I think it would be cool to go to Blogher, and I’d love to be able to see my girl friends who are going to be in the area, but I just can’t decide if it’s worth it to fly all the way to Chicago for one night. Plus, I don’t even know if there are tickets.

What to do, what to do? For now, I’m off to do some work. There’s a lot to do between now and the White Stripes. Too many events, too much work, and too little time. Luckily, I stopped by Origins today (Mr. Eye Candy was back) and bought some fun, new make-up, including navy-colored mascara. Ooh la la. At least I’ll look cute while sprinting from one thing to the next!

I must say, after burning the candle at only one end for such a long time, it is rather fun to have two ends to burn. Now, if only I had a third for sleepytime.

Ani’s Set List – Celebrate Brooklyn (July 18, 2007)

As promised, here’s the set list from Ani’s concert in Brooklyn last Wednesday night. It was an awesome mix of older and newer stuff, and she rocked on all the songs. My favorites of the night, although all the songs seriously were fantastic, were “Napoleon,” “Shameless,” “Gravel,” and “Little Plastic Castle.”

Not a Pretty Girl and Dilate continue to be my two favorite Ani albums, although I was so inspired by her show that I bought Knuckle Down off of i-tunes and have been listening to it for the past few days. There were two songs from the concert that I didn’t recognize and couldn’t figure out what their titles were. Anyone know?

1) Manhole – Knuckle Down (2005)

2) Done Wrong – Dilate (1996)

3) You Had Time – Out of Range (1994)

4) Lag Time – Knuckle Down (2005)

5) Napoleon – Dilate (1996)

6) Paradigm – Knuckle Down (2005)

7) Alla This – (New)

Subdivision – Reckoning (2001)

9) Lyrics about a Polar Bear (?) – (Don’t know the name or album)

10) Lyrics about Insecurity Glaring in the Mirrors (?) – (Don’t know the name or album)

11) Everest - Up Up Up Up Up Up (1999)

12) Gravel – Little Plastic Castle (1998)

13) Little Plastic Castle – Little Plastic Castle (1998)

14) 32 Flavors – Not a Pretty Girl (1995)

15) Shameless – Dilate (1996)

16) Overlap – Out of Range (1994)

Running, Explosions, and Ani

As you could probably tell by the infrequency of my posts last week, I’ve been incredibly busy. I miss my blog! I miss you all! Mostly, the busy-ness is related to work. I’m doing all these things I’ve never done before and there’s a steep learning curve. At my new firm, it’s like I’m a real lawyer! Insanity.

After finally finishing my work this afternoon, I went for an awesome run around the reservoir in Central Park. There’s a 1.57 mile loop that goes around the reservoir and I did it THREE times for a grand total of 4.7 miles! After a week of stress-related, late-night binging on creative peanut butter concoctions and tamari roasted almonds, I was incredibly proud of myself for going on the run. Running outside is so much better than running on a treadmill inside a stinky gym.

Now that I’m done with my work, I finally have a chance to post about the Ani concert. It was AWESOME! Awesome, awesome, awesome. She freakin‘ rocked. I almost didn’t go because, as you might have heard, there was an explosion in Manhattan the night of the concert, and it happened two buildings away from mine. That was some nerve-wracking craziness, but thankfully it wasn’t a terrorist attack, and it didn’t prevent the cabbies from driving to Brooklyn.

Because of the explosion, I got to the show late and missed most of the opening acts. However, I made it in time for Ani and that’s really all that mattered. Standing around on my own before Ani came on, in a sea of dread-locked hair, pierces, patchouli, and girls caressing one another, I felt a little out of place and just the tiny-est bit lonely. I’m no longer a college kid with hippy-esque leanings; I’m a boring lawyer. Sometimes, I think that I might be one of the “Napoleons” of Ani’s songs; not really, and not on the inside, but I certainly must appear to be that way on the surface at times. None of my friends had wanted to go to the concert, so I had to go on my own, and I think those kind of things – like most things, probably – are more fun shared.

But, the minute Ani took the stage, all of those feelings were banished, and I was overcome with a sense of exhilaration and excitement to be seeing her perform again. Her guitar sounded fierce, her vocals were incredible, and she peppered her set with the usual bits of laughter and stories in between songs. Watching her up there, I was so happy that I had made the decision to go to the concert. One of the things I love about her is the sense of joy she brings to her performances, songs, and commentary, even while singing or talking about profoundly serious issues, such as our infamous President, the state of the world, war, poverty, and issues of race and gender. She’s constantly giggling. She sees humour and irony amidst pain and sadness, and that’s inspiring.

While the show was going on, I texted myself the playlist and will post that later. The show sparked a lot of feelings and thoughts that I also plan to post about, but at another time. I’m still letting them percolate. One thing I learned at the concert that I had not known is that Ani recently gave birth. How awesome is that? Thirteen years after first listening to her music, I still have a mad girl-crush on her. I hope she’s happy. She deserves nothing less.

* * *

By the way, the picture above, which was taken at a different concert than the one that I went to, shows a shot of Ani’s fingers wrapped in black electric tape. That’s how hard she rocks; she plays so intensely that she has to wrap her fingers in electric tape to keep from shredding them against her guitar strings. That’s pretty much one of the most bad-ass things ever.

Date With Ani

I would be hard pressed to express in words what a profound impact Ani DiFranco has had on my life. I listened to her religiously for most of college, and for many years after, until her tastes shifted, and mine stayed the same, and she got more funky than fierce. I could easily track at least 6 – 8 years of my life by Ani records if I felt so inclined.

I can’t remember the last time I saw her in concert, but I think it might have been a few years ago while I was in Law School. Tonight, after a multi-year hiatus (mine, not her’s), I’m scheduled to see her in concert down in Brooklyn and I’m so excited! The only problem is that New York is experiencing torrential downpours at the moment, and the concert ticket says “rain or shine.”

I’m crossing my fingers that the rain will let up by tonight, but even if it doesn’t, I’ll be there. It’s not every night that you have the opportunity to relive so many years of your life.

Happy 4-Mile 4th of July

For the first time since I started working out three weeks ago, and for the first time in about 4 months, I ran more than a mile and a half without stopping for a break. Then, I ran past 2.3 miles without stopping for a break, and then past 3.4, and before I knew it I had run 4 miles. FOUR. On the 4th of July. Coincidence, I think not.

Actually, it is a coincidence. I’m just being a dork.

Here are the real reasons why I think I had a good work-out:

* I had eaten healthfully, and the perfect amount, the night before, so I had energy once I got on the treadmill;

* I’ve started doing pilates again, and I think it’s already made my core and legs stronger, which also helped me once I got on the treadmill;

* The last three weeks of working out, though grueling and exhausting at first, have started to pay off;

* I committed mentally to running for at least 3 miles because I knew it would make me feel good, and I knew I would be proud of myself;

* I was motivated by watching my legs pumping on the treadmill and detecting just the slightest increase in muscle tone (hurrah!); and,

* I had an awesome 10-hour sleep last night.

Here’s my 4-mile playlist:

1) Since You’ve Been Gone – Kelly Clarkson

2) Buttons – PCD

3) Tell Me – Diddy and Christina

4) I Like To Move It – Bang Gang

5) Banquet - Bloc Party

6) I Drove All Night – Celine Dion

7) Breaking The Habit – Linkin Park

Rabbit Run – Eminem

9) Fighter - Christina

10) This Ain’t A Scene, It’s a Goddamn Arms Race – Fall Out Boy

After that great start to the day, I’m off to celebrate the 4th down in Brooklyn with Em and some friends. I hope everyone has a lovely holiday!

Dismantlement Begins

I’d like to say that today I was strong and empowered, and for the most part I was. I wore my sassy “Boys Lie” shirt, armed myself with coffee, and, with the help of a friend, an Ani Difranco mix, and a “Sex and the City” HBO marathon, started the dismantlement process.

Of course one of the episodes had to be the be the one where Aiden moves out of of Carrie’s place. It didn’t bother me that much; I never liked Aiden. I always thought he was kind of sappy. I did note, however, that Carrie and Aiden participated in the dismantlement process together, and somehow that seemed right. It’s odd to dismantle a relationship all by yourself. It makes everything seem a bit unreal.

I made a lot of progress. Boxes were packed, forks were sorted. The apartment now looks less like the place I shared with Raj, and more like the epicenter of a cardboard box explosion.

At one point, unfortunately, my resolve was momentarily shattered when Raj stopped by to get something from the apartment. Upon seeing him, my heart, which had been pleasantly numb for a while, started beating frantically and hurting again. Of course, I also dissolved into a mass of tears; understandable, I think, as it was the first time we had seen one another since we had broken up. He looked terribly handsome and sad, which only intensified my sadness. I don’t want him to hurt.

After he left, I went back to my friend who somehow managed to make me laugh through my tears and helped me continue the packing process. My friends, both the ones I knew I had and the ones I didn’t know about, have been awesome throughout this situation. I’m grateful for all of their support. That goes for all of you, too. Thanks for all of your comments and for being so supportive and kind. It’s nice to feel a part of a sisterhood (boys, that includes you too).